Tweek Tweak
This morning, instead of reporting to Jail School, I was sent as our representative to a special training on new regulations for reporting child abuse. That’s even less fun than it sounds, by the way…and don’t bother to guess how many people made the joke about, "Child abuse training? Oh, is that where they teach you how to really teach those kids a lesson?" (paraphrasing…slightly…). Anyway, as nice as it sometimes can be to get a change of scenery, this definitely would have been more appealing if a) I still lived in Brooklyn, since it was about 5 to 10 minutes away from my family’s house on the train, but 45 minutes away from my current apartment and required me to transfer; b) I could have had a nice, quick, 9 to 12 workday instead of being scheduled to work evening school back on the island from 3 to 6; c) it were on a subject slightly less depressing than child abuse and/or more engaging than using technology unavailable at my workplace.
Anyway, despite having caught an extra 40 minutes or so of sleep, I found myself starting to doze off before even the first hour of the 9 to 12 presentation had passed. I normally don’t drink regular coffee anymore, but decided that it was too embarrassing that another attendee had already had to prod me in order to get me to pass a handout along our row. I scooted down to the building’s lobby to buy a snack and a large coffee…this is where I went wrong. I was okay for the rest of the presentation, even though they were still only on page 5 (of 17!) on the handout by 11:30, and showed no signs of stopping by 12:30. I was scheduled to meet my parents for lunch at 12, and had called them to say come a half hour later. Other people must have had plans too, because I’m not the only one who wound up leaving while the speaker was still pressing along.
By the time my parents and I sat down in the restaurant, I had begun to feel irritable, jittery, and distracted…not unlike certain experiences during my high school days of yore, back when caffeine was not the only substance I was mishandling. Since I didn’t want to come off as obnoxious or ill, I mentioned the coffee issue. My mom suggested I eat some plain bread, while I thought drinking extra water might be helpful. Consuming both of these did little to reduce the growing similarity between me and a certain, hypercaffeinated South Park character.
By the time I did eventually make it to PM school, I was crashing…having been cold on the train, nauseated on the horribly jerky busride, and suffocated by the cigarette smoke of the person who drove me from one part of the island to the other…also, by the time I went home, I had probably peed about six times. Still, that’s one way to make it through a dreary, extended workday in the rain…
Aaargh!
P.S. I haven’t been posting much because I’m tired of my own whining. I do have a couple of funny anecdotes from recent events, but can never think of the best phrasing when sitting in front of the ol’ computer.
